


The Castle Started Spinning

by crystalblinks (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Luke Cage (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 12:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9549746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/crystalblinks
Summary: Sam had learned the signs of basic attraction in his early days. The closeted CO whose hand lingered too long during training was the same as the girl from his class who looked away quickly when he caught her staring, she was the same as the customers who drove down the street, eyes raking the bodies of various people until they slowed down, admiring broad shoulders and thin waists, gap teeth and shaggy blonde hair. Sam noticed the signs in Steve immediately, and Sam who had an inordinate amount of practice at hiding his own attraction, was doing the same thing.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Prince's Darling Nikki

Sam did what he had too. After the air force dropped him on his ass in the middle of D.C he found himself working on corners, making enough to buy food and pay for his part of the rent. He knew he was blessed, he still had his mind and his body which was more than most people had these days. His work wasn’t glamorous but it was work. It kept his mind active. Every move he made premeditated, every work he said a line off a well practiced script. Some mornings, when he couldn’t quite sleep through the blaring sunshine and honking cars, he’d liken it to a war zone, one he was both thankful for and desperate to be rid of. 

He had regulars, mostly guys with wives and 2.5 kids, just trying to get off before they had to return home to their bumbling mediocrity and deep seated dissatisfaction with their lives. He didn’t hate them though, in another life he might have been them. He thanked every god in existence that he’d found some semblance of happiness on D.C streets. Sam found his happiness with Misty and Clint, people he’d found on the streets, people who helped him up. They bonded through shared experience, through their own battlefields. 

“Claire, 3 o'clock.” Misty mumbled, pressing herself further into the brick wall, almost as if it would swallow her whole. “She’s got a new one with her.” Sam looked over, seeing Claire holding her typical green satchel, the one filled with every kind of safe sex tool imaginable. Behind her tried a tall man, blonde, broad shoulders and military stance. Sam and Misty had clocked him immediately, but Clint who’d never seen battle on city streets or desert paths probably registered him as one of Claire’s new lackeys, he didn’t process the danger he presented. 

“How are my favorite patients doing?” Claire asked approaching them. Over the years they’d cultivated a sort of comradery with Claire. They accepted her help with little to no resistance, unlike many of their peers, which in turn had her bringing them extra supplies and sometimes food when she was feeling generous. 

“Peachy!” Clint yelled out, waving his cigarette towards Claire

“This is Steve, he’s new to the clinic. I figured I’d take him around to meet everybody.” 

Misty nodded at him, while Clint winked, causing the guy to back up slightly, startled at Clint’s advances. Claire ignored the exchange and began pressing condoms into Sam and Clint’s hands, birth control into Misty’s. 

“Army, Navy or Airforce?” Sam asked making eye contact with the man. His soft eyes steeled instantly.

“Army. You?” 

“Airforce.” Steve nodded in acknowledgement, his eyes subtly looking over Sam’s body. Sam had learned the signs of basic attraction in his early days. The closeted CO whose hand lingered too long during training was the same as the girl from his class who looked away quickly when he caught her staring, she was the same as the customers who drove down the street, eyes raking the bodies of various people until they slowed down, admiring broad shoulders and thin waists, gap teeth and shaggy blonde hair. Sam noticed the signs in Steve immediately, and Sam who had an inordinate amount of practice at hiding his own attraction, was doing the same thing. 

“I’ll see you three down at the clinic next week?” Claire stated, more than asked.

“Yes mother.” Misty taunted, twirling a curl around her finger.  

“And tell Carmen to get of the pipe for at least a week if she’s gonna go to the job interview I set up for her.” She warned before making her way down the street, Steve trailing behind. Sam had found that it was harder to do his job when he was high, not that he’d ever knock the coping mechanisms of the people around him. He knew what their jobs, what their existences entailed, if he was a stronger person he would numb his pain in the same ways they did.

“Bye Claire! Night Handsome!” Clint called out to Steve and Claire as they progressed down the street. “That guy is giving me some strong gay vibes.”

“I think those were for Sam.” Misty remarked, glancing over at Sam. He turned his head slightly, he figured that that guy was going to disappear into thin air after one 

+++

Everyday before work Sam ran. He ran until all he could feel were his feet pounding against the pavement, his mind vacant of all thoughts except the press of heel to cement. Sam was focused as he weaved through busy streets, passing politicians and parents pushing babies.

“On your left!” He heard a voice call out causing him to stop in his tracks. Sam looked back to see Steve lingering outside a store, a bright smile on his face. “Sorry that was weird.”

“It’s fine. Good to see you.” 

He blushed softly and rubbed the back of his neck. “So you run at seven pm?” Steve asked. “Most people run in the morning.”

“Most people work while I sleep.” He nodded, lingering in the doorway. 

“Are you hungry? I was gonna go get a burger.”

Sam looked around, running through his list of things to do before he had to meet up with Misty and Clint at their apartment. He was about to decline, but one gaze into those extremely sincere eyes had him rethinking his plans. “Eh, skipping one run won’t kill me.” 

Steve smiled brightly and motioned down the street. “I know this great place at the end of the block.”

“Convenient.” Sam winked at Steve, causing him to blush. 

They entered the restaurant and were seated immediately. “Are you from D.C?” Steve asked as soon as their server left.

“Born and raised in Harlem.” 

Steve smirked. “Brooklyn.” 

“What brought you to D.C?”

“My friend Nat lives here, offered me half of her apartment.” 

“What about you?”

“Fresh start.”

“I get that.” There was a pregnant silence that swelled between them only broken when their server brought their food. 

“So did you go straight into the army?” Sam asked, grabbing a fry. 

“I did art school for a few years, but then my mom got sick and I figured I’d tap into some of that patriotism and here we are.”

“But how did you end up at the clinic?”

“Medical training will get you really far in life.” 

“I know what you mean.”

Steve quirked an eyebrow, his smile turned mischievous. “There seems to be a story behind that.”

“Lot’s of stories, but I’m not sure that you want to hear about all the times I had to tend to bruises and tears or stick needles in people’s chests.”

Steve squirmed uncomfortably. “No, I guess not.” 

The rest of dinner continued without another mention of Sam’s job, an effort made by both men. They seemed to lose themselves in conversation despite their restraint. It was only when they got the check that they realized they’d been there for most of the night, chatting and telling stories. Steve made a grab for the check but Sam got there first, pulling out a few bills from his wallet.

“Sam, I’ve got the bill.” 

“I can afford dinner Steve.” 

“I know but...” Sam rose a careful eyebrow at him, sliding the check out of Steve’s reach. 

“If it really bothers you, you can leave the tip.” Steve sighed in concession, and eyed the check warily. They left the restaurant and walked a little further. 

“I’ve got to head east.” Sam said pointing in the opposite direction of Steve’s destination. Sam pecked his cheek and turned to leave but Steve said something thing that had him stop in his tracks. 

“If you need help getting off the streets...” Steve said holding out a large hand, one marked with the scars and creases of a privileged life. 

Sam moved back as if Steve was trying to offer him a handful of kryptonite. “Fuck you. Go find someone else to pull that white saviour bullshit on.”

“That’s not what that was.”

“I'm not your damsel in distress, this isn't a fucking movie where you sweep me off my feet and turn me into some law abiding housewife.”

“Why are you so goddamned angry?”

“Because all night you’ve been dancing around my job and pulling all this savior shit.”

“Your job? You served! You shouldn’t be out here peddling your body to everyone with a dollar.”

“Not everyone can come back and be the same Steve! Not everyone comes back to friends and a home and prospects!”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you become a hooker! You can get yourself together Sam, let me help you.” 

Sam turned, glancing at Steve once more. “You can kiss my black ass.”

+++

When he’d made it to the corner that night, Misty automatically picked up on his mood. “Is this going to affect you tonight?” She asked pointedly, scanning both his face and the road behind him. He sighed and shook his head. “Take it, put it in your pocket and then you can pull it out after you get some rest.” 

True to her word as soon as the sun had started to risen, she dragged him home, got him to shower and ready for a fitful sleep that would have his mind taunting him with images of his mother on a Sunday, dressed to the nines in a magenta suit, broad hat sitting easily atop her head, her body contorted around the pews, begging in her final breaths, images of machine guns and falling, his wingman falling, falling from the sky and into gravity’s unforgiving hands. When he awoke that afternoon he wondered, fleetingly if everyone he’d ever loved was destined for nose dive. 

He stumbled into the kitchen where Misty was sitting among a pile of creams and Clint was cooking breakfast. “Come on, you’re doing cornrows while you vent.” Misty knew him better than most people, she understood his constant desire to be doing something, to keep his mind and body active. He carded his fingers through her hair, already washed and blowdried. “Alright, take it out.”

“You remember Steve from last week?”

“Claire’s Steve or red minivan Steve?” 

“Claire’s Steve. I ran into him during my run and we went to dinner. It was great, we talked but he was uncomfortable when I mentioned the job in any capacity, even hassled me over the bill.” 

“But what got you that upset?”

“We left for a walk and he offered to get me off the streets. We got into it and he didn’t even try and hide the fact that he thought my work was disgusting. I like him, but I don’t have time to be ridiculed by a partner you know?”

“If he doesn’t respect your hustle drop his ass.” Misty said as he finished the first braid. 

“Most people have a hard time accepting our hustle.” Clint commented stirring their food on the stove, leaning back slightly so he could hear the conversation better. 

“We work just like everybody else. We provide for ourselves like everybody else, it’s not right that we’re looked down on because of it.”

“Exactly.” Sam echoed. “I just wish he’d get that. He’s too cute to be so dense.”

+++

Sam knew it wasn’t one of their regulars based on the car. Their usuals usually drove Minivans and BMWs but this guy had driven up in an electric hybrid, one that cost more than everything Sam, Misty and Clint made in a week. 

“Since when do the yuppies need to pay for sex?” Clint commented, picking at the non-existent dirt under his nails. 

The car got closer to the curb and Sam realized that it was Steve with a small and uneasy smile on his face. “Sam can I um, can I talk to you for a minute?”

Sam looked over at him from where he leaned against the brick wall, his shoulder brushing Clint’s. “I’m working.”

Steve pulled out a wad of cash, crumpled tens and twenties that looked like they’d been pulled from pockets and couch cushions. “I don’t know what your rate is, but I hope this should cover it.” 

Sam looked over at his friends. Clint was busy winking at Steve, but Misty nudged him forward. “If only for the money.” She murmured, even though she knew he was going to get in the car despite the money. 

Sam hopped into the car and held out his hand, stuffing the cash into his pocket. “What is it?”

“I uh, I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“All’s forgiven.” Sam moved to get out of the car, but Steve grabbed his wrist, his face twisted with desperation.

“Please.” He resettled in his chair. “I did some reasearch on your um... work, and I was being insensitive. It’ll take a little bit for me to um... adjust? I’ll try not to be an asshole about everything and to be considerate of you and your job, and if you want me in your life I’d love to be in it.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you. And I know that I’m ignorant to what you do and your life but if you’d help me. I could get better, be better for you.” 

“No more white savoir bullshit?”

“No more white savior bullshit. I promise.”

Sam knew about the fluidity of promise, but the lover in him, wanted to hold onto that word, and what it symbolized. Sam looked into Steve’s eyes, staring at him, at the creased around his mouth, the endearing pout of his lips. “Thank you.” He placed a hand  on Steve’s thigh and moved closer to him, pressing his lips to Steve’s. The kiss was fast, biting and insistant.

“Was that because I paid you?” Steve asked looking down into his lap.

“What you’ve yet to learn Rogers, is that I don’t do anything I don’t want to.” Sam opened the car door and pressed another kiss to Steve’s lips, slower and less urgent than the one before. He got out of the car, rounding it until he came up to Steve’s window. 

“Friday at nine, I’ll meet you by the burger place. Dress nice.” He winked at him before dashing back off to the brick wall where his friends were waiting, giving him questioning looks that were accompanied by smirks. Steve drove by once more, waving at Sam awkwardly, a blush high on his cheeks. Sam leaned back onto the wall and waved back, praying for the solidifying of promise. 


End file.
